I have
bounded it north and bounded it south and bounded it east and bounded
it west."

With all his hard study, reading, and thinking, Lincoln was not a
bookworm, nor a dull companion to the humble, unschooled people among
whom his youth was spent. On the contrary, although he was looked up to
as one whose acquirements in "book learning" had raised him far above
every one in his neighborhood, he was the most popular youth in all the
country round. No "husking bee," or "house raising" or merry-making of
any kind was complete if Abraham was not present. He was witty, ready
of speech, a good story-teller, and had stored his memory with a fund
of humorous anecdotes, which he always used to good purpose and with
great effect. He had committed to memory, and could recite all the
poetry in the various school readers used at that time in the log-cabin
schoolhouse. He could make rhymes himself, and even make impromptu
speeches that excited the admiration of his hearers. He was the best
wrestler, jumper, runner, and the strongest of all his young
companions. Even when a mere youth he could lift as much as three
full-grown men; and, "if you heard him fellin' trees in a clearin',"
said his cousin, Dennis Hanks, "you would say there was three men at
work by the way the trees fell. His ax would flash and bite into a
sugar tree or sycamore, and down it would come."

His kindness and tenderness of heart were as great as his strength and
agility. He loved all God's creatures, and cruelty to any of them
always aroused his indignation. Only once did he ever attempt to kill
any of the game in the woods, which the family considered necessary for
their subsistence. He refers to this occasion in an autobiography,
written by him in the third person, in the year 1860.

"A few days before the completion of his eighth year," he says, "in the
absence of his father, a flock of wild turkeys approached the new log
cabin; and Abraham, with a rifle gun, standing inside, shot through a
crack and killed one of them. He has never since pulled the trigger on
any larger game."

Any suffering thing, whether it was animal, man, woman, or child, was
sure of his sympathy and aid. Although he never touched intoxicating
drinks himself, he pitied those who lost manhood by their use. One
night on his way home from a husking bee or house raising, he found an
unfortunate man lying on the roadside overcome with drink. If the man
were allowed to remain there, he